A Few Good Men
by Artisian
Summary: Ready for something a little less conventional, M16 brings Alex in to help with an unwilling informant. What Alex hasn’t been told is that he will be betraying one of his fellow agents & must suffer humiliation at the hands of the one he cares about most.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I asked Mr. Horowitz very nicely, but he still refused. So, until he concedes, Alex Rider (and all other recognizable characters) remain in his possession. _sigh

* * *

_

**A Few Good Men **

Prologue

Big Circle, London's most notorious Chinese crime syndicate, was plotting - and the outcome was guaranteed to leave someone's cadaver lying in the dust.

Britain's international espionage and warfare department, M16, had been put through biological warfare, local drug trafficking, and assaults on their best and most valuable agents, the results of which M16 nevermanaged to pin on Big Circle.

M16 was, by no means, going to underestimate them again. M16's last undercover operation to gather evidence of Big Circle's criminal activities resulted in a bits and pieces of their Asiatic Field Squad showered over an area of 4500 kilometers.

Grapevines all over the world revealed that Big Circle was, once again, up to something. A national crime syndicate could hardly be planning a bakesale...

There was one reliable source and one source only. Now, whether M16 can scrounge up an amount high enough to make her betray the only person she has ever loved, is an entirely different matter.

* * *

Chapter One

"She has what we need. She has it. I know she does. She_ has_ our information." Blunt said, on one of the rare occasions he lost his temper.

"That she does. The problem is that she won't give it to us." Mrs. Jones pushed a button. The potted plant shed the appearance of a potted plant and revealed a video screen.

The grainy video footage showed a girl slamming her fist on the table, and getting up to stride through the door. Suddenly the girl closed the door, walked in reverse, sat down and put her fist onto the table only to lift it up again. Her face suddenly changed from angry to calm, and back again. There was only one logical reason for this...

"Alan. Please do stop playing with the rewind button." Mrs. Jones chided her partner.

Alan's hands quickly hid themselves from sight.

The artificially intelligent machine righted itself and started to play the footage, showing a sparse room with two chairs opposite each other on both sides of a table. A man sat on one side, negotiating with someone more than twenty years his junior.

"Please," the man said. "Tell us what you know."

"No. Has my answer ever been any different? It was no last month, it was no yesterday. The answer is still no. Have I not made my point clear? No. Never. Jamais. Nunca. Mai. Nie." Rejection came in multiple languages.

"Fine." The man seemed to have lost his patience. "If you can't be convinced, you can be bought." He took out a pad of paper and a cheap ball point pen. The man scribbled a quick sum onto the paper and ripped it off the pad almost savagely. He, having watched an enormous sum of bad movies, proceeded to turn the paper over and slide it towards the girl.

The girl picked up the paper like it was infected, with the least amount of contact possible. She read the sum with non-existent expression. Without taking her eyes off the number in front of her, she stretched her hand out and said a single word: "Pen."

The pen was rolled over to her. It was her turn to be dramatic. She wrote with the utter concentration and slow precision of a child, penning each letter carefully. It was clear, in the way she spoke, in the way she held herself, that she resented being childlike when her childhood had been lost in gunfire.

She finished writing and the paper was returned to the man. He read her reply, growing - if possible - even more flustered.

"Why do you have to be so difficult, Marin?!" The man bellowed.

"BECAUSE. HE IS THE ONLY ONE I HAVE." She said with gritted teeth, accompanied by her fist connecting solidly with the table. She got up with so much force, her chair screeched in protest. And then she was heading towards the door.

Mrs. Jones hit the pause button, freezing her image halfway through the doorway. She glanced as Blunt, her gaze questioning.

"Interesting." Blunt mused. "What did she write on the note?"

"FUCK YOU."

"She's fiery, that one."

"Of course. Now what do you plan to _do_ about that?"

Alan appeared to not have heard. Her final words played themselves in his mind. _He is the only one I have...He is the only one I have...he...he..._

"Tulip, I know _exactly_ what I plan to do." Blunt retorted. He steepled his fingers in thought. "Bring in Alex."

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Not mine. Never will be mine. Reviews please?

* * *

**A Few Good Men**

Chapter Two

"All good things come to an end. That's the way it is. All good things come to an end..."

Alex tried to convince himself with this simple mantra, repeating it as he walked the familiar path to the Royal and General.

Alex had been given two weeks - two_ blessed _weeks - alone.

Regardless of who called, or what they said, if it somehow combined the words: 'Guardian', 'Visa', and 'Urgent visit'; it was M16. It was always M16...

While he was throughly disgusted with the things M16 had gotten him into, he was not stupid enough to ignore a direct summons. If the world needed saving, Alex was there - however reluctantly - to do it.

Finally reaching the door, a agent-turned-security-guard asked him for ID before quickly searching his person for weapons and leading him to the private an elevator that would take him to the office of Alan Blunt and his faithful second, Mrs. Jones.

* * *

"_This_ is the latest threat?"

"Mr. Rider. How lovely to see you." Blunt said.

If his face didn't look quite so much like someone close to him had kicked the bucket, Alex really might have believed him. He was that good.

"Oh _no_. Not as much as _I've_ been looking forward to your meetings."

The room seemed to get colder with every sarcastic comment exchanged.

Mrs. Jones cut in, "More to the point - this _is_ the latest threat."

Plastered on the wall, or more accurately, the giant computer screen, was the face of a girl, younger than Alex by far.

With her hair in pigtails, her fringe, and her round face, she was the picture of innocence.

"_Her? _What? Her pigtails explode? Is that it?"

"Alex. Please do stop with the nonsense." Mrs. Jones demanded. "She, herself, is no threat. She works for us."

"Payroll not satisfactory?"

Mrs. Jones ignored the comment. "That was her sixth grade picture. This," Mrs. Jones took the time to access the girl's file on the computer. "Is who you will be dealing with."

The child's picture was replaced by a picture of a girl that looks about Alex's age. With her straight black hair and her petite profile, Alex would have guessed that she was Asian.

It was clear to Alex that she was an agent. Her posture was good, her face relaxed. Heck, she even looked happy. There was nothing to show that she was always on alert, watching for the slightest movements, but the almost invisible tension in her shoulders.

She somehow managed to be aware of her surroundings and distant at the same time, a testimony to her skill.

Something about her face drew him in. There was an air about her, the way she held herself. She was pretty, yes, but Alex was far beyond that.

_Her eyes! _Alex thought. Her eyes were large brown globes that seemed to radiate more light than they took in. They slanted slightly at the corners, giving her a distinct ethnic look.

But it wasn't the colour of her eyes, or the shape of them that he noticed. It was what he found in them. Sadness, pain, and loss, all masked by the will to survive.

Her eyes mirrored the pain in his.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Need I say the usual? (I thought so...)

So, this chapter gives a little glimpse into Marin's non-M16 life.

I have a bit of a 'Mary Sue' phobia, so please, if she is, tell me.

Enjoy!

* * *

**A Few Good Men**

Chapter Three

Marin Chan was busy.

She found herself in a room where amorphous shapes and smiling faces were painted on the wall in contrasting colours, holding onto a howling toddler with one hand and struggling Cocker Spaniel with the other.

_What narcotic were his parents on when they agreed let their child take the family pet to daycare?_ Marin demanded an answer, and God help her, she was going to get one if she had to stab somebody.

_They should definitely pay me more..._Marin finished as she took stock of her situation.

The facility was understaffed, Marin's shift partner was out sick, seven parents were running late - leaving seven extra children. What's more, her department head was handling an emergency at another facility, leaving her utterly alone.

As Marin had learned in AP Politics, when one person is given absolute power over a group of unhappy people, the person in charge usually dies due to lack of head.

_Ha!_ Marin thought._ St. Joseph's Bleeding Heart Childcare Center...how morbidly accurate. Ol' Joe must have had prophetic tendencies._...

She swore under her breath as the diminutive dog bit her, fortunately not drawing blood. The rest of the children - or, as Marin referred to them, a questionably clean and slightly sticky horde of evil - noticed that their teacher was distracted, and all hell broke loose.

Pencils were thrown, smaller children were pushed, and the snack was not shared. This was every child care worker's nightmare. Or migraine, as Marin was starting to get.

On top of her group of fledgling rioters, Marin's university admission essays were due, her life guarding exam had to be re-evaluated due to unwarranted suspicions, and she had slept a total of 4 hours. The remaining hours were replaced by caffeine. It also didn't help that she was bleeding like a proverbial stuck pig. (God bless the producers of Midol and Nabob.)

A tug on her pants brought her back to the moment.

"Mawin! Can I have shom candy?"

"No, Nicholas. You cannot have any candy."

Nicholas shrieked like a he was on fire, and kicked her in the shin, making her stumble forward and drop the dog.

The dog ran off before Marin could react, nails clicking as it skittered through the door.

_Oh...my._

A frustrated sigh escaped her as Nicholas began to cry and the dog disappeared from sight.

_Why? WHY? WHY WAS THE DOOR OPEN?! Did I leave the door open? _Marin berated herself for not noticing sooner; what kind of caretaker was she? _Argh!_

She took Nicholas in her arms and gave him a hug, promising that Coco would be returned safely. She just wished she could be as sure of that as she sounded.

"Weally? Weally, Mawin? You'll get Coco back?"

"Yes, Nicky. I promise."

As Nicholas settled down and dried his tears, the door creaked itself open, revealing - oh joy! - her sick shift partner.

"Julia! Why are you here? Are you coming to help? Oh God! PLEASE tell me you're here to help out."

Julia's usually neat hair was matted and dull; her outfit consisted of a sweatshirt and some pants that would likely fit two of her.

Julia scoffed. "Neva. I'm doh congested. Jusd neft my licence. Stoopid farmasist woodun le me pick up mah prescription widdout ID."

"Please?"

"Nohd."

"I just have to go get Coco."

"Nohd."

Scowling at her refusal, Marin stalked over to where she had left her purse, and rummaged through it. She finally found what she was looking for and threw it at Julia.

Julia peered at the copper-coloured object. "Whads dis?"

"A decongestant," Marin said, shouldering her bag. "Chug it, and looking intimidating to a bunch of five year olds. Not too hard, is it?"

Marin had reached the door and was pulling her keys out. Inside, she laughed at the face Julia made as she weighed the pros and cons.

"Thanks, darling. You're a doll." Marin said, opening the door and slipping through the crack.

"Wait..."

"No time, hun. Gotta go, thanks a bunch."

"Wha-?"

But Marin was already on the other side of the door and locking it, thankful that the door locked only from the outside.

Julia pounded on the door. "MARIN! Damn you, taking advantage of the congested!"

So her integrity took a little blow...

* * *


End file.
